Unrequited Love
by The Trojanhorse
Summary: The first chapter is basically a sort of paraphrasing of Dogma, with some added scenes. The second chapter is post-Dogma, kind of a Dogma sequel. God i'm ambitious
1. Default Chapter

**Unrequited Love**

Rating; PG 13? I'm not entirely sure of ratings yet.

Slash; Yep; Bartleby/Loki.

WARNING; Angst, UST and general moping.

OK, so we all know Dogma isn't mine, right? I used a lot of the original Dogma dialogue in this one, cos otherwise it wouldn't have worked, but I've tried to spice it up with thoughts and stuff. And whenever I try to post fics on ff.net the formatting keeps screwing up, I'm sorry but I can't work out how to fix it. If it happens with this one too, I'm gonna be ever so slightly pissed.

There will be a sequel, I'm working on it as we speak. It will be long, it will be somewhat like an attempt to write a Dogma II. Watch this space!

The basic state of affairs was this. He, Bartleby the Grigori, was deeply, madly and insanely in love with Loki, who was the Angel of Death, his best friend, and also very unaware of Bartleby's problem. The frustration wouldn't have been so bad for the Grigori if it was the spiritual, meeting-of-two-minds, metaphysical kind of love. But it wasn't. It was the, ahem, other kind of love. The one that angels had a definite problem in engaging in. Oh, the spiritual stuff was there, no doubt about it, there was nobody Bartleby respected and loved more than Loki (not that it always looked that way), but he wanted more. Loki, of course was oblivious to all of this.

And now we come to the plan. The master plan. To have even the slightest chance of getting what he wanted, Bartleby was going to have to figure some way of getting them sent to Earth. Once there, if they could transubstantiate, then they'd be human, and, well, you figure out the rest. It was a risky plan, that was for sure, but Bartleby felt that he just had to try. This whole situation was driving him nuts. Utterly insane.

It may help the reader to know that this plan was thought up by Bartleby while he was drunk. Usually his plans were better. However, tonight was traditional. The post-slaughter drink. And the amount of alcohol Bartleby had ingested was making him very maudlin. And screwing up his plotting capabilities. Fatally, as it turned out.

'I like, totally fucking wasted them!' Loki was crowing.

'Loki, they were babies.' Even while drunk and plotting, Bartleby could manage to sound disapproving and cynical.

'Take that, firstborn of Egypt! Pow! Feel the wrath of the Almighty! God, I haven't felt this good since Sodom and Gomorrah. You remember Sodom and Gomorrah, don't you man? Great days, great days.'

'Yes Loki, I remember Sodom and Gomorrah.'

Both of the angels subsided into silence, thinking.

'Loki?'

'Mm-hmm?'

'How do you know what you're doing is, you know, right?'

'What do you mean, right? I'm obeying God! Of course I'm fucking right!'

'Yeah, but, the commandment 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'. Doesn't that apply to ALL of God's creations? Us too?'

'Man, I'm the Angel of Death. I bear God's wrath! I have to kill. What would you rather I became? The Angel of Writing Lines? The Angel of Smacked Bottoms?'

'Still, I'm not sure it's right.'

'You are so squeamish. If it wasn't right, then God wouldn't let me do it, right?' Loki sat back, pleased with his logic.

'I don't know if it works that way. Look, we have to abide by God's rules, right? And God's rules are those that humans hold to be true. And one of those is the 'no killing people' one. Besides, it's not moral. And what good's an angel that's not moral?'

'What do you want me to do man? Throw down my fucking sword and give God the finger?'

'Yeah, pretty much. You don't have to be that melodramatic about it though. Just say you don't want the job. Take something a little less bloodstained.'

Loki downed the last of his drink, leaned over the table, and stared at his friend. Bartleby could feel a blush rising on his neck. _He's so close . . ._

Then Loki slammed down his glass. 'I'll fucking well do it!'

'Good man!'

They left the bar. Although neither of them knew it, it would be the last time they'd leave any bar, here or on Earth.

They hadn't transubstantiated. After they left the bar, Loki, as he'd said he would, had thrown down the sword, and given God the finger. Literally. This made God a little testy. And resulted in Bartleby and Loki, both now sobered up from shock, landing in Wisconsin, and being told to stay put. Or else.

'This is all your fault!'

'MY fault? Mine? Who was the one who gave God the one fingered salute?'

'You suggested it, you smug bastard!'

'I suggested that you resign! I didn't suggest for you to go in there and burn all your bridges in one go!'

Loki subsided into silence. Bartleby had the definite feeling he'd blown it with Loki. Big time.

Another thousand years later, or so.

They'd made up, eventually. It helped, but not much. For Bartleby, the pain of being away from the Heavenly Host was a dull red ache, punctuated by the bright flares of longing for Loki. He didn't know if it was better to be around Loki, and feel completely inadequate, or to stay away from him, and fight the desperation to see him again. Of course, he'd pretty much always felt like that about Loki, but combined with the loss of God's presence, it became too much to bear. Sweet Jesus, all he wanted to do was go _home_. In his usual fug of depression he wandered over to the little pile of post on the table in his apartment. One envelope. OK so the fact that there was an envelope in the first place was a bit of a surprise; he had a very clear sign asking for no circulars, and who did he know who'd send him mail? He opened it anyway. Inside was a sheet of paper. Something torn out of a newspaper . . . He began to read. Halfway down the page he dropped into a chair. His jaw dropped too. Finishing the article, he sat for a moment, letting it sink in. Then, feverishly he checked the date on the calendar. Wouldn't it be just his luck that it'd be April Fool's . . . Nope, not April Fool's. This thing was _real_. He grabbed the phone off the table, and, pausing to blow the dust off, rang the only number he knew. Loki's.

'Mmhmm? What?' Loki didn't even bother to ask who it was. Who else would ring him?

'Meet me at the airport. It's urgent. Really urgent.' Bartleby rang off.

Sitting morosely in one of the hard seats in the arrival lounge, Bartleby watched all the happy people while he waited for Loki. The humans delight at seeing each other made him feel warmed. And then over the crowd he heard a familiar voice, and saw a familiar figure coming towards him, in animated conversation with what looked like a nun.

'Let me get this straight, you don't believe in God because of Alice in Wonderland?' said the nun, looking distinctly shocked. Bartleby groaned. He was at it again.

'No, 'Through the Looking Glass' – That poem, 'The Walrus and the Carpenter'? It's an indictment of organized religion. The Walrus - with his girth and good-nature - obviously refers to either the Buddha, or - with his tusks - the lovable Hindu elephant god, Lord Ganesha. This takes care of the Eastern religions. The Carpenter is an obvious reference to Jesus Christ, who was raised a carpenter's son. He represents the Western religions. And in the poem, what do they do? What do they do? They dupe all the oysters into following them. Then, they proceed to shuck and devour the helpless creatures, en masse. I don't know what that says to you, but to me it says that following faiths based on these mythological figures insures the destruction of one's inner-being.' said Loki, punctuating his little speech with animated gestures.

Bartleby sighed. Cartoons and the priesthood, Loki's two hobbies. He kept listening though, one eye on the happy reunited people.

Loki went on;

'Organized religion destroys who we are or who we can be by inhibiting our actions and decisions out of fear of an intangible parent-figure who shakes a finger at us from thousands of years ago and says "Do it, do it and I'll fucking spank you'

OK. That was going a little far. Using language like that to a nun.

The nun looked really dazed. Loki often had that effect on people. Hell, he had that effect on Bartleby sometimes. 'I've... I've never really thought about it like that... What have I been doing with my life?''

'I know, I know. My advice to you is; you take that money you've been collecting for your parish and go get yourself a nice dress. Go fix yourself up. Go find yourself some man, some woman, that you can connect with, even for a moment, cos that's all life is sister, just a series of moments. Why don't you seize yours?'

As the nun wandered off, Loki clambered over the seats and plopped down next to Bartleby.

'Here's what I don't get about you: you know for a fact that there is a God.

You've been in his presence; he's talked to you personally. And yet I just heard you claim to be an atheist.' said the Grigori, rather disbelievingly.

Loki grinned. 'C'mon man – I just love to fuck with the clergy; keep 'em on their toes. Now here's what I don't get about you: why do you feel the need to come to this place all the time?'

Bartleby took another look at the travelers surrounding them, and smiled. 'This is humanity at its best. Look at them. All that tension, all that anger and mistrust, forgotten for one perfect moment when they come off that plane. See those two? The guy doesn't even know that the girl cheated on him while he was away.'

Loki was instantly interested. Simple creature. 'She did?'

'Uh-huh. Twice.'

'Nice!'

'But it doesn't matter at this moment because they're both so relieved to be with one another. I like that. I just wish they could all feel that way more often.'

'This is why I had to come down here this morning; this is why I had to miss my fucking cartoons? You call me; you tell me it's important. To what, share in your half-assed obsessions with Hallmark moments?'

Bartleby didn't trust himself to look at Loki. He paused, still regarding the happy couple. And then;

'We're going home.'

Loki's jaw dropped.

'Somebody sent us this in the mail.' he said, passing over the newspaper clipping. Loki was still staring at him in disbelief. He rolled his eyes. 'Take it man, and quit leering at me. People are gonna think I just broke up with you.' _Not that I'd ever do that . . ._ he thought to himself. Loki took the article, still staring.

'Did you just say we're going home?'

'Read.'

Loki read out the headline haltingly; '"Cardinal Glick Cuts Ribbon on 'Catholicism-Wow!" Campaign." And?'

Bartleby glared at him. How could he be so slow? 'You have to keep reading.'

And Loki did. He finished the article.

'So you're saying I can walk through this doorway and go back home?'

Finally, he got it! Sort of. 'No - by passing through the doors, our sins are forgiven. Then all we have to do is die...'

Loki started to panic at this 'Wait, wait, wait - Die? I don't want to die.'

Sarcastically Bartleby said 'You'd rather stay down here for a few more eons?'

The sarcasm was lost on his friend, who was panicking.

'No, but we don't even know if we can die. And what if we can, but this archway thing doesn't pan out? What then? Hell? Fuck that! Fuck that.'

'Impossible. If we cut off our wings and transubstantiate to complete human form then we become mortal. And if we die with clean souls, there's no way to keep us out. They have to let us in. We won't be angels, but at least we'll be home.' His complete yearning for _home_ echoed in his voice.

Loki thought. Suspicion crossed his face 'Who sent this paper?'

The last question was too much. Bartleby exploded. 'Who cares who sent the paper? All that matters is that after all these years, we've found a loophole. He can't keep us out anymore. And once we're back in, I'm sure He'll just forgive and forget.'

'Yeah, but this plenary indulgence thing is a church law, not Divine Mandate. Church laws are fallible because they're created by men.'

Much as he loved the other angel, Bartleby really wanted to strangle him sometimes. 'One of the last sacred promises imparted to Peter the first Pope by the Son of God before He left was "Whatever you hold true on earth..."

'...I'll hold true in Heaven.' Loki finished slowly. _Finally_

'The Pope says it's so, God must adhere. It's dogmatic law.'

Loki held out a hand, convinced. 'Let it never be said that your anal retentive attention to detail never yielded positive results!'

Bartleby accepted the hand, and grinned. 'You can't be anal retentive if you don't have an anus!'

This was working!

And then;

'There's just one thing I think I should do before we leave – something that'll get us back on His good side.' said Loki, rifling through his pockets and producing a battered piece of paper, torn out of some magazine. Bartleby read it. Mooby the Golden Calf. With a sinking feeling he knew what was coming.

And he was proved right when Loki said 'I want to hit them.'

'Are you nuts?! We're mere days away from getting back, and you want to jeopardize it because you have a soft spot for the good ol' days?!'

'What better way to show I've repented than by resuming the position I denied... thanks to you.' _Oh that's right; bring it all back to being my fault . . ._

'A killing spree is not going to make things better for us.'

'We're not talking about killing here. We're talking about Divine Justice.

We're talking about punishing the wicked, raining down fire and brimstone.

He's all about that. I just know he'd want this done.'

'There hasn't been an Angel of Death since you quit. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Besides, what if you're wrong?'

'If I'm wrong, it won't matter. Like you said - we pass through the arch and we're forgiven anyway'

They walked into the crowded elevator.

Bartleby considered the idea, and found himself agreeing. 'Well... he does hate competition. And this Mooby definitely falls under that heading. The Rededication is in four days.'

Loki was happier now. 'Our last four days on earth. If I had a dick, I'd go get laid.' (_And if I had one I'd help you there . . ._ Bartleby very quickly shut down that train of thought.) 'But we can do the next best thing.'

Bartleby asked the question, even though he knew the answer. Don't forget, he had been hanging round with Loki for millennia. 'What's that?'

Loki forgot they were in a crowded elevator. 'Let's kill people.'

One of their elevator-mates spat out her coffee in shock. Loki smiled at her indulgently. 'Oh, not you.'

So they hopped on a bus. Biiig mistake, letting Loki buy a gun beforehand. Give that guy any kind of weapon and he was gone. He only knew one way to behave. Before Bartleby knew it, the bus had been stopped, the passengers and driver had run away, and there was brain fluid all over the seats. The thing is, seeing Loki in his element again had been so . . . attractive. He'd never seen the other angel look so, well, hot. That's why when he saw Loki leveling the gun at the adulterer's head he didn't even attempt to stop him. Stupid!

And that's why he went along with the Mooby hit. He even helped out. Well, when he saw what those guys were guilty of, all written out in their minds for him to see, he had to. That was the bonus about being a 'Watcher'. He knew stuff. So he agreed to set the stage for Loki's first big hit since his resignation.

' . . . You are responsible for raising an icon that draws worship from the Lord.

You've broken the first commandment, but more than that, I'm afraid none of you passes for a decent human being. Your continued existence is a mockery of morality.

Like you – Mr. Burton. Last year you cheated on your wife of seventeen years, eight times. You even had sex with her best friend while you were supposed to be watching your kids.'

Loki just had to butt in here; 'In the bed you and your wife share, no less!' He gave the adulterer the double thumbs up in full sarcastic splendour.

Bartleby went on.

'And you, Mr. Newman. You got your girlfriend drunk at last year's Christmas party, and then paid a kid from the mailroom to have sex with her while she was passed out, just so you could break up with her - guilt free - when she sobbingly confessed the next morning. She killed herself three months later.

Mr. Brace disowned his gay son, very compassionate Mr. Brace;

Mr. Ray put his mother in a third-rate nursing home and used the profits from the sale of her house to purchase an oriental rug for himself;

Mr. Baker flew to the Philippines on the company account to have sex with an eleven year old boy; Mr. Hauptman okayed the production of Mooby dolls from materials he knew were unsafe and toxic because, survey says, it was less costly.'

And then he stopped. The last board member was a bit of a surprise.   

'You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life. Good for you.' He gave her the thumbs up too, and turned to the chairman. 'But you, Mister Whitland. You have more skeletons in your closet than this assembled party. I can't even mention them aloud.' He bent down and whispered in Mr. Whitland's ear.

The other board members couldn't hear, but Loki picked it up. And was horrified. But pleased. It gave him more justification.    

 'You're his father, you sick fuck.'

Bartleby left Loki to it. But when he heard him go after the girl, he felt bound to stop it.

'Loki!' he called from outside the board room.

'Coming.'

A disgruntled Loki exited the room and followed him. They headed to the bus terminal.

More problems. They tried to get another bus, but they were all sold out.

But Loki had a plan. Bartleby groaned mentally.

'Why fall victim to gravity when we can just as easily rise above?' said Loki

'Fly?' It had been ages since they'd flown. It wasn't safe anymore, not with all these jet engines just waiting to suck them in,

'We got wings, right? Let's use them.'

And then a voice they hadn't heard for ages –literally- addressed them.

'I wouldn't suggest that.'

Azrael. The fallen Muse.

'You wouldn't want to stand out, now would you?'

Following him into a shop of some kind, the pair listened to him. It took a while for it to sink in for Bartleby. They were marked. Neither side wanted them to get home.

'Thanks Azrael, you're a true friend' he said, clasping the other's hand.

Now their transport problems came back to worry him again. 

Eventually they managed to catch a train. Onboard, while Loki was pretending to get high with a couple of stoners, Bartleby, seeking more sophisticated company, was pretending to get drunk with a woman who seemed to be reluctantly accompanying said stoners. And boy did her conversation intrigue him. She was on a 'pilgrimage'. He was instantly wary, mindful of Azrael's warning.

'Where's this pilgrimage to?' he asked, carefully.

'You'd never believe me if I told you.' she said, chuckling to herself. Bartleby put on his most disarming smile He could tell she fancied him.

'Try me.'

'Alright. But I warned you. Okay - I'm going to this church in New Jersey.' _Shit!_

'Really...' he said, in a keep-on-talking voice

'I was told that I'm supposed to stop a couple of angels from entering the

church. They're trying...' Here she just burst into giggles. Alcohol taking its toll. 'This sounds so stupid... They're trying to get back into Heaven.'

Bartleby tensed. The girl kept on talking, oblivious and more than a little tipsy.

'See, they got tossed out of Heaven years ago, right? And if they get back

in, it proves God wrong. And since God is infallible, to prove Her wrong

would...' She snorted with laughter again '..would unmake existence! I feel so stupid just saying it.'

Bartleby's first reaction was fear. She was sent to kill him. And then immediately a feeling of calm stole over him. He knew how to handle this. He slid a bottle off the table.

She continued 'But the thing I don't get... is how do I stop an angel? Two, even! I guess I'm supposed to talk them out of it or something.'

'Maybe you're supposed to kill them?' he suggested calmly, hefting the bottle, testing it. She burst into hysterics.

'Oh yeah! Kill them! Even if that was the case... I mean. how do you kill an

angel?'

To Bartleby it seemed that time was slowing down. 'I don't imagine it's much different from killing a human . . .' he said.

And then a familiar, but much less welcome figure than that of Azrael stepped into the carriage. The Thirteenth Apostle.

'Where the hell is everybody? I wake up, and...'

Bartleby froze. So did the Apostle.

'The Apostle!'

'Holy shit!'

Bethany, the girl, chose this time to get up and make friendly overtures.

'Rufus, I want you to meet my new friend, Barry...'

Bartleby smashed the bottle on the table edge and grabbed her from behind, lifting the glass to her throat. She didn't get it.

'Barry! Don't be such a show off!'

The Apostle did.

'Take it easy, Bartleby. Just let her go and let's talk about this.'

After hearing the name Bartleby, Bethany started to panic. But the angel held her tightly.

'Let me go, you dickless son of a bitch!'

'Oh save it lady, a few minutes ago you were aching to top me off!' he said savagely, delighting in her fear. It was like a drug. 'After all this time, this is what it comes down to – we're to be liquidated?' he asked the Apostle.

'There doesn't have to be a slaughter. We can work this out...' the Apostle was desperate that he didn't kill the woman. She must be the Scion. Bartleby decided that this was the time to call for reinforcements.

'Loki!' he yelled over his shoulder.

Loki, seeing what was going on, leapt to his feet. 'Holy shit - the Apostle! What are you doing here?'

Impatient, Bartleby answered for him. 'They're here to thwart our journey home, my friend. This one just told me that she's supposed to stop a couple of angels from entering a church.'

'You think she was talking about us?'

'No, two other angels! What do you say, Rufus - we're to be liquidated?'

'It doesn't have to go down like that! You haven't thought about the consequences of your re-entry!'

Loki was scornful. 'Consequences, schmonsequences.'

'I have to agree with him. No one - not you, and especially not this

finite-lifer - no one is going to impede us. We're going home, regardless

of whose pride it may hurt!' said Bartleby implacably

The Apostle blew up. 'It's not a question of pride stupid! It's...'

Bartleby had had enough of this. 'Loki - kill the girl.'

Loki looked at him in shock. 'What are you, high? I can't kill her if she hasn't done anything, you know that.'

'Fine! I'll kill her myself...'

And then everything exploded in pain. The two little stoners of Loki's acquaintance somehow managed to overcome the two angels, and they were thrown ignominiously off the train. A cold fury over took Bartleby at this point. Nothing was going to stop him getting what he wanted. He strode into an underground car park, Loki in tow.

'The Apostle is here!' said Loki, slightly panicked.

'I noticed.'

'If that's the case, then chick with him must be...'

'The Scion, I'd imagine.'

Loki was completely panicked now. 'Well, shit man! Maybe we should rethink this whole thing! I mean, you heard the guy - he said there were consequences. Azrael tells us we're marked. Maybe there's more to this than we thought about.'

But Bartleby felt amazingly calm. He knew what he had to do.

'I was so close to slitting that bitch's throat, and you know how I felt? Righteous. Justified. Eager.'

'Are you all right man, your eyes –' said Loki, concerned.

'My eyes are open! For the first time I get it. When that innocent little girl let her mission slip, for the first time in eons I get it! In the beginning, it was just us and Him. Angels and God. And then He created the humans. And He gave them more than He ever gave us. Ours was designed to be a life of servitude, bowing and scraping and adoration. But He gave them more than he ever gave us; He gave them a choice. They can choose to ignore God, choose to acknowledge Him. All this time we've been down here, everyday I felt the absence of the Divine presence. And it has pained me... as I'm sure it must have pained you sometimes, even though you'd gloss over it with jokes. But we feel his absence, and why? Because of the way He made us -as servants. Had we been given free will, we could ignore the pain... like them.'

Now Loki was really worried. He tried to joke it off.  'Hey, you know, all I'm saying is maybe one of us needs to take a nap-'

Bartleby snapped. 'Wake up! These humans have besmirched everything he ever gave them; they were given paradise; they threw it away. They were given this planet; they destroyed it. They were favored best among all His endeavors; and some of them don't even believe He exists, and despite it all, he has shown them infinite fucking patience at every turn.

I asked you once to lay down the sword, because I felt sorry for them! The result, our expulsion from heaven. Where was his infinite fucking patience then? It's not right! It's not right, it's not fair. We've paid our debt. Don't you think it's time we went home? And to do that, I think we may have to dispatch our would-be dispatchers.'

'Wait, wait, wait - kill them?! You're talking about the Last Scion, for Christ's sake! And what about Jay and Bob - I mean, those guys were all right.'

'Don't, my friend. Don't let your sympathies get the best of you, as they did me way back when. Scion or not, she's just a human. And regardless, our sins are forgiven by passing through that arch. No harm, no foul.'

Loki stared. 'My God. I've heard a rant like this before . . . '

'What did you say?'

'I've heard a rant like this before. You sound like the Morningstar . . . '

'You shut your fucking mouth- '_No, wait_, thought Bartleby, _I'll shut it for you_. What he did next was a result of the pure adrenalin he was running on. The fierce exultation, the realization of what he was saying had wired him, bypassing his brain. He grabbed Loki and kissed him, hard. Desperately. Putting all those eons of want and need and frustration into it. And Loki responded, to Bartleby's surprise. For what seemed like another eternity they were locked into that embrace, until Loki stiffened and pushed him away.

'Loki. I want you. 'It was a statement of fact. Bartleby looked straight at his friend, and reached for him again. It was out in the open now, no use trying to hide it.

Now it was Loki's turn to rant. He shoved Bartleby away.

'No, Bartleby. We can't do this. I want to. Oh God, do I want to. But we can't, and not just for the practical reasons. And you know why? You left it too long. All those years, all those centuries, I waited for you. I watched you, moping round in your little depressed world; I wanted to comfort you so badly. I didn't know if you wanted me too, or any of that stuff. But you should have known. You're a Watcher for fuck's sake man, a Watcher! Every other fucking mind on this planet you can read, you can see all their feelings and emotions. You can read their minds! Why couldn't you fucking read mine?' Loki was almost crying, but he regained his composure. 'And now you're talking about doing this, this stupid thing. You're not who you were anymore. You're not the angel I loved. I meant what I just said. You sound like Lucifer man! You've fucking lost it! You're not talking about going home Bartleby, you're talking about war on God! Well fuck that. I've seen what happens to the proud when they take on the throne. I'm going back to Wisconsin.'

Bartleby slammed Loki up against the wall, trying to control himself, but the feel of Loki under his hands, struggling to get his breath back, was too much, and he claimed Loki's mouth in another draining kiss, not letting the other end it until he, Bartleby, was ready. And then he spoke.

'We're going home, Loki. And no-one, not you, not even the Almighty himself is gonna make that otherwise.' he said, and walked away. Loki followed, but Bartleby knew that that kiss was the last one, knew that all was different between them now. And his mind couldn't handle it. He snapped, snapped for real.

His frustrated love and his longing for home fused, tied together with deep resentment for humanity. It was _their fault_! He wanted _revenge_. He strode out of the car park.

They strode into the church grounds the next morning, as the Cardinal was making his sad little speech. Or rather, Bartleby strode. Loki followed him unhappily. There were hundreds of parishioners.

Glick was saying; 'Now, let me just give you a bit of history on this particular little hundred years young House of God...'

The line was too good to pass up.

'But this is no longer God's House. God doesn't live here anymore.' said Bartleby, pushing his way through the crowd. 'He's grown weary of your superficial faith and has turned a deaf ear to your lip-service prayers. He is no longer amused, and has abandoned you -His favorites - to the whim of judgement. Hypocrites and charlatans -prepare to taste God's wrath!'

Loki tried to stop him again. 'Maybe we should just go.' he whispered.   

'You wanted your body count, you got it. This lot is rife with sin. We'll judge them all!' Bartleby gritted back. Glick tried to get a cop to stop him. You had to laugh sometimes. A cop against an angel. Especially an angel as royally pissed off as Bartleby.

'All right, let's leave the nice Cardinal alone and go for a ride...'

'Mister McGhee, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.'  said Bartleby in a threatening tone. Which the cop just didn't seem to pick up.

'Is that so? Well, let's just...'

Sick of the cop, Bartleby shoved his head round, breaking his neck in a business-like manner, dropping the body without looking at it, but hearing the gasps of shock behind him, one of which was Loki's. _Who's squeamish now huh?_

'Ladies and Gentlemen - you have been judged as guilty of violations against our Almighty Lord. And this very day - I assure you - you will all pay for your trespasses... in blood.' He turned his head to Loki. 'Wings. Now.'

'I'm not so sure...'

'DO IT!'

The slaughter began.

After a while, just as he'd predicted, the Scion and her friends, the prophets, the Apostle, and that know-it-all Muse Serendipity all turned up, very dramatically. Loki'd already cut off his wings, after they finished with the parishioners, in a sad attempt to persuade Bartleby to do the same. But the other angel was on a roll. He hunted the streets for other humans, having run out of the so-called faithful. From on high he watched Loki's confrontation with the Scion and co. He dropped the struggling human he held, so as to not be distracted.

It gave them quite a fright when it nearly hit them.

'It was a Cardinal.' said Loki, who was getting pissed quite effectively on champagne. 'Kind of hard to tell with his face like that, but the Rosaries are a dead giveaway.' Well that was classic Loki. Wings cut off? End of the world? No big deal. He still had room for jokes.

The skinny prophet leapt for a gun. Fool

'IT'S ONE OF THEM!! KILL IT!!!'

But the Scion stopped him just in time.

'NO...! Don't you listen?! We can't touch them!' Ah. Obviously they'd put some thought into their little quest.

'I wasn't gonna touch him, I was gonna shoot him!' said the idiot.

Here Loki decided to make a contribution. He looked up.

'He's been at it for awhile now. We ran out of parishioners, so he just started picking up anyone off the street. You're looking at eons of repression getting purged. If only we'd been able to jerk off.' Noticing Bartleby, and noticing that he'd picked up another one, Loki stepped back a foot or so.

'I'd step back if I were you.'

The Scion lost it at the sight of the mangled body. She grabbed Loki.

'WHY?!? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HOPE TO PROVE?!? ALL THESE PEOPLE - WHY?!?'

'I thought we weren't supposed to touch them?' the skinny one said to the Apostle.

'I think our Bethany's about hit her ceiling.'

Loki pushed Bethany aside amiably. Even as a human he was strong still. Strong enough for that, anyway.

'This wasn't my idea, all right? I just wanted to go home.' he said defensively. 'We both wanted to go home. But he snapped. When he realized who you were and what you'd have to do, he just lost it. You know what's funny about it? He never could stand to see me work. He said he always felt sorry for you people - that you didn't know any better. Now look at him.' Imagine. Loki making excuses for him. Bartleby would have felt pleased, if he could feel anything at all.

The thin prophet finally got up to speed. 'This guy's drunker than hell.'

And the Muse butted in.  'Which means he's human now - his wings have been cut off.' She slapped Loki, trying to wake him up a bit. 'Loki! Loki!'

Loki recognized her. 'The Muse. Haven't seen you in a long time.'

She had no time for pleasantries. 'Loki - have you walked through the arch yet? C'mon. tell me! Have you gone in and come out through the archway yet?!'

This seemed an opportune moment to intrude. Bartleby began to descend.

'No.' He landed beside them. 'We were awaiting your arrival.'

The Muse tried to plead with him. Amusing.

'Bartleby - listen to me! You can't go through with this! Azrael was just using you! If you go back this way...' He shoved her out of the way.

'I've become aware of the repercussions, Muse. I know what I'm doing.'

Now Bethany had a go.

'YOU FUCK! YOU SICK, TWISTED FUCK!! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!! LOOK AT All you've done...!'

He subdued her. He almost felt a soft spot for her.

'Bethany - you of all people should understand what I'm trying to accomplish here. You too have been abandoned. You know what it's like to be cast aside. But while you've only felt the devastating effects for a few years, I've dealt with it for millennia. And while you never see your ex-husband or how blissful he is with his new wife...And he is.....seeing you people everywhere, everyday, trapped on this perfect little world He created for you... it's a constant reminder that though my kind came first, your kind was most revered. And your kind knows forgiveness, while my kind knows regret. A lesson must be taught. All are accountable... even God.

Soon a cadre of police will arrive, just in time to kill us as we exit the church. And then this failed experiment called existence will cease to be.' He felt good. This would fix everything. Everything.

Loki tried. One last time.

Drunk as hell, he stepped up to his friend. 'I can't... let you do this, Bartleby...I didn't know we... would end existence...' Bartleby didn't trust himself to look at Loki. He couldn't weaken now, he was so close, and he knew that one sight of Loki's beautiful, bloodstained face would weaken him beyond belief. Instead he addressed the Scion.

'My compatriot. Genocide takes a lot out of him. He's weakened. And more importantly. he's now a human being. A condition that carries two liabilities: a conscience.....and a short life span.'

He pulled a knife out and shoved it home. Then he looked at Loki. The shock and disbelief in his face nearly killed Bartleby. He held his friend for as long as he could, and whispered 'Sorry, old friend - but you lost the faith.'

He shook off the guilt as much as he could, but he didn't need to, for almost immediately the assembled group jumped him, trying to beat him up.

There were a few minutes of confusion, and then, glory be, the thin stupid one picked up a gun! And of course, attempted macho banter.

'HEY! BIG BIRD!! READY FOR THE COUNTING GAME?! COUNT THE SHELLS!!'

Bartleby dropped the Muse he was throttling, and ducked. The stupid one started firing at him. It'd be ok, the shells were whistling over him- his wings! The pain had to be felt to be believed. With his hands over his head, Bartleby could see out of the corners of his eyes his feathers –his own feathers- and his blood flying past. He screamed silently, his throat working, but no noise coming out. And then it stopped, and a weight was lifted off his back. He looked up. The Apostle and the Muse had grabbed the thin one. The Apostle slapped him.

'Oww! What the hell did you do that for?!'

'Angels have to cut their wings off to become human.' said the Muse.

'You just did him a favor, stupid.'

Gingerly, Bartleby got up. He reached around his back, feeling for his damaged wings. They weren't there. A pair of pitifully flapping appendages met his fingers, slippery with warm blood. His wings were gone. His wings were gone. He was human! And now there was nothing they could do to stop him. He raced for the church doors, laughing. Grabbing the handles, he was on the point of throwing them open when they opened by themselves. Metatron, and God, stood in front of him. Suddenly the enormity of what he had done hit him.

_Loki. Oh God. Loki!_

The presence of God brought it all back to him.

'Oh Bartleby... was Wisconsin really that bad?' said Metatron, the smug bastard. He had NO IDEA.

_Loki . . . _

God stepped forward, and held him to her. Bartleby couldn't help it, he started to cry.

_Loki . . . _

'Anyone who isn't dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now.' said Metatron.

God released Bartleby, and stepped back. With a sense of calm, he knew what was to happen now. He nodded.

'Thank you.' he whispered.

She opened her mouth. In his last few seconds, all he could think was

_I'm sorry! Loki, I'm sorry! Loki . . . _


	2. Unrequited Love II

**Unrequited Love II; A Slightly Slashy Sequel**

For Megan, bass player, future rock legend and fellow Dogma fan. Without her this plotbunny would be dead; she encouraged me to keep writing after my initial panicked email; 'I've got a really odd Dogma-slashbunny, what do I do???'

Rating; R; slash (Bartleby/Loki), violence, language, placenta. Forgive my lack of medical knowledge; I originally based parts of the scene in the wood on the delivery of a foal before I managed to find a book with details of human childbirth, (I'm a biology student, ok? Humans sooo not my specialty) so if any of the details are wrong for humans, forgive me, and please, by all the gods don't try to follow my vague instructions. For those who are curious about equine pregnancy, consult Black's Veterinary Dictionary for enlightenment J

Disclaimer; Dogma not mine, all characters not mine etc ad nauseum.

Warning; Flame me and I'll flame you back. Be told.

Remember kiddies, those who can, write slash. Those who can't, flame those who can.

OK, so this is my idea of what a 'Dogma II' should be like, minus the slash. Well to be honest, I'd love it if Dogma II included slash, but you can't have everything, and I doubt Ben Affleck and Matt Damon would go for it, somehow. Sigh

Metatron was wandering Heaven, pondering on what had occurred over the last few months. After the whole 'plenary indulgence' fiasco, Loki the ex-Angel of Death had been restored to angelic status as a reward for his repentance, but had been banned from leaving Heaven, and banned from trying to contact his friend Bartleby, who had been placed on Earth as a human, and had his memory of his time as an angel wiped. God, in his –her- infinite wisdom had felt that it panned out neater that way. Better story all round. However not everything was hunky dory in the kingdom of Heaven.

Metatron sighed. Loki was watching Bartleby again. Shaking his head, the Seraphim walked over to Loki, and tried to pull him away from the pool of water he was watching his friend in.

'Come on, Loki. Leave it for now.'

Loki beat at the Voice with his hands, crying 'You sick fuck! Look at what you're doing to him! Look at him!' Sighing, Metatron peered into the pool. The sight that met his eyes was indeed pitiful.

It was night, and Bartleby was tossing and turning in his bed, whimpering, whispering Loki's name, and the words 'I'm sorry' over and over. Finally he curled up in a foetal position, moaning. His dreams were haunting him.

The dreams were the one flaw in the 'stick him back on Earth' plan. Apparently God couldn't do anything about his subconscious. And his subconscious was wracked with guilt about his attempt to destroy the universe, and the murder of Loki.

Loki was railing against the treatment, following Metatron as he started to walk away.

'He's on a cocktail of anti-depressive drugs, he goes to fucking therapy three times a week, he's joined every group the Catholic Church has just to feel like he belongs somewhere, and he still feels cut off from everything, and he still feels guilty. Let me go talk to him!'

'Loki, he wouldn't remember you. It'd scare him out of his mind-'

'You're torturing him, and he doesn't even know why! He doesn't remember anything, except when he's asleep, and then it all comes back to haunt him! It's sick, it's torture! Hasn't he paid his debt? Let him come home! Or at least let me go join him.'

'Loki, this is selfish of you. You only want to go back because you fancy him.' Loki gaped.

'You do know he's tried to suicide four times, don't you? Let me tell you what happened; the first time he tried to shoot himself. Fortunately the mailman spotted him through the front window and made him put the gun down. The second time, he tried to OD on painkillers. Only someone rang him on the phone and he collapsed while trying to get then to hang up, and they called 911. The third time he tried to step in front of a bus. Driver managed to swerve. Amazing coincidence, that. Thousand to one chance, they said at the hearing. The last time, he went direct and tried to slit his wrists. Again, the mailman managed to save him. Now I don't know about you, but that suggests a fucking conspiracy to me! Too many neat coincidences. Let me go back, I'll look after him!'

Metatron wouldn't look at Loki. 'He's safe enough.'

'You're having him followed, aren't you?' said Loki accusingly.

'You don't understand, it's for his own good. We can't have him dying-'

'I fucking knew those weren't coincidences. He's "dying" by fucking degrees down there and all you can do is watch him!'

Metatron lost his patience.

'Look, Loki. God has decreed that he stays there, and you stay here, and never the twain shall meet, as the poet has it. So bloody well stay put and SHUT UP!'

He walked away.

Bartleby, or rather, Ben Gregory, as he was now called, sat in church, eyes hungrily following the minister as he went about his usual business. Ben knew there was a God, he just knew it. But there was something wrong somewhere. He didn't feel it like he should. Thinking maybe it was something to do with participation; he'd joined everything the Church offered. As the recession of faith ended, he got up and put his coat on. He'd agreed to meet the Right-for-Lifers down at the abortion clinic this afternoon. That was one of the groups he wasn't too sure about, but it was worth a try, right?

That afternoon, kitted out with placard and picture of dead foetus as per spec, he assembled with his fellow Catholics at the clinic. Every time they thought someone was watching they started shouting and chanting. Ben felt slightly ridiculous. A heavily pregnant woman walked past them, and they raised a cheer for the mother-to-be, until she started walking towards the abortion clinic.

'Murderer!'

'You're not fit to have a baby!'

'Whore!'

She ignored them, with an ease born of practice. The thwarted Right-For-Lifers grabbed her, jostling her.

'Hey, back off!' she shouted, trying to make her way out of the throng. She pushed at Joe, one of the leaders of the group. Biiig mistake. He pushed her right back, and she fell heavily. Ben started. That was going too far. He wasn't going to have anything to do with beating up women. Shoving his way through, he picked her up by the arm and, bulldozing his way through the little crowd, tearing off the stupid placard as he went, he got her out and away from them.

'Thanks,' she said, dusting herself off. She looked up at him and smiled, until a spasm of recognition wrenched her face and she yanked her arm away from him.

'You!'

'What? Look, are you ok lady?'

'Stay away from me! Come back to try again, have you? Nobody left to kill in New Jersey, so you come here?'

'Hey, easy lady, I haven't killed anyone-'he reached for her arm to steady her, as she was dangerously close to over balancing. She jerked away from him

'You dickless bastard! Where's your friend, the mass murderer? Busy plotting genocide somewhere else? God, I thought you were dead. I so hoped you were dead.'

Ben was genuinely puzzled. He became more puzzled when two fists flew out of seemingly nowhere and clobbered him on either side of his head.

'Hey!'

'Fuck off, Big Bird! Go back to where the hell you came from!'

Two guys were standing next to the woman, helping her up.

'Shit, you all right? Did that dead bastard try anything?'

'No, I'm fine.' The woman stood up, flanked by the two guys. They all stared threateningly at him.

'All right, leaving now.' said Ben, backing away rather fast, rubbing his sore head.

'Yeah! And don't you come back!' As he left, Ben thought he heard the mouthy guy say

'I thought he was dead?'

Ben walked back to his apartment, feeling lost. They'd seemed to know who he was, they thought he was dead, and they obviously weren't all that keen on him. Unlocking his door, he headed straight for the medicine cabinet and downed a handful of pills. He felt the need of them.

Azrael eyed his minions. There weren't many of them to eye, but he gave them a damn good eyeing anyway. And sighed. The Stygian Triplets looked back at him rather vacantly. The Golgothan just stood. They were all he could get. The Powers of Hell had been keeping rather a close eye on him these days, and not many other demons would have much truck with him. The Triplets were easy to manipulate, however, and the Golgothan just liked to kill, and didn't get much opportunity these days, what with all those cameras out there just waiting to get a snapshot of a seven foot tall monster made of faeces.

'Right. The plan is fairly simple, so I would appreciate it if you lot would at least try to comprehend. The woman, Bethany. You need to kill her. You have failed to do this several times, don't ask me why. It should be a reasonably simple task, even for dimwits such as yourselves. She is a mortal, Last Scion or not, and will fall to conventional weapons. She has no power. She is however being guarded by the two little idiots she picked up along the way last time. With a little luck, none of our other 'friends' will show up. So I need you to be quick and discreet.' The demons looked blankly at him. He could just _see_ them thinking '_discreet? Huh?'_ He sighed. 'Careful. Now go.'

There was a problem in Heaven. In a word; Azrael. Again. How one fallen bloody Muse managed to cause so much trouble was completely beyond Metatron, but nevertheless, he was summoned into Her presence, and the situation was 'brainstormed.'

'You're sure?'

God contrived to indicate that She was indeed sure. Metatron looked severely troubled. 'What are we going to do?'

God raised an eyebrow.

'All right, all right. Suggestions. Well, the only people we've got who've dealt with him before are Bethany, those two little stoners, and Serendipity. If he can get out of Hell again, past all the guards they set on him after his last little escapade, he must be stronger now, and so we'd need more firepower.' Metatron pondered.

'I think we're going to have to send an angel. One who doesn't mind a bit of combat. And you're going to hate this idea, but the best person for that is Loki.' Metatron waited for a response. God did indeed hate the idea.

'Arrgh! Do you mind! I may not explode when you talk to me, but still! No, look, he's the only option! All the other angels are sodding conscientious objectors.'

She looked at him questioningly.

'Bartleby? You want him involved?'

Pause.

'Well yes, he'd be helpful, he does know Azrael's modus operandi rather well, and lets face it, he was always the brains of the duo, but still-'

Pause.

'Yes I know Loki on his own couldn't think his way out of a paper bag, but considering Bartleby's history-'

Pause

'I'm sure he's penitent, but he's now human. And he and Loki, well, they might get distracted. How're we going to be sure they won't get, um, sidetracked?'

Pause.

'Oh no! I'm NOT going to babysit-arrgh! Stop! Please! Ok, ok, I'll go!

Metatron stomped off, inasmuch as it is possible for an angel as exalted as the Metatron to stomp.

'So, what are you two doing back in Illinois? Not still looking for John Hughes?' said Bethany.

Jay threw Silent Bob a filthy look. 'Nah. A dealer guy we know up this way got himself convicted. Said we could have his stash when he went inside. We thought we'd drop in and see you on the way back. Looks like we got here just in time, too. That fucking Bartleby shit trying to get you again. You sure you're ok?'

'I'm fine.'

'What were you doing here anyways?'

'I was walking to the clinic to see Liz, before I got jumped by those idiot Right-for-Lifers. Funny thing is, he pulled me out before I got trampled.' Bethany looked thoughtful.

Silent Bob looked at Jay. Jay nodded.

'Silent Bob and me are going to hang around. Make sure he don't come back.'

'That's sweet, really, but-'

'No buts.'

Bethany sighed, and let them lead her down the street. At least Jay hadn't tried to hit on her yet. She wondered vaguely why.

Metatron trudged off through Heaven, looking for Loki. Not that he really needed to look. He knew exactly where the other angel would be.

'Loki!'

'What?' Loki didn't look up from the pool.

'You're not going to believe this, but you've got to go see Bartleby.'

'You're right. I don't believe it.'

'Look, Azrael's back. He's after Bethany and the sprog. You, me and your boyfriend down there have to go and see to it that he doesn't get near them.'

Loki looked around. The tired expression on Metatron's face told him that it was true.

'But you said he wouldn't remember me . . . '

'It shouldn't take long to reawaken his old memories. He's only been 'Ben' for a few months. Just go down and talk to him; he'll remember you. I'll follow you down-'

Loki dematerialised.

'-in a few minutes.' Metatron sighed. This day just wasn't getting any better.

It was too much. No longer. First the Right-For-Lifers attacking that woman (and why? They were supposed to be in the right, but attacking a pregnant woman, in fact, attacking anyone was wrong, it was so wrong.) and then the woman's reaction. What had he done that hurt her so much? One thing was clear; he wasn't going to stay here any longer, not when he could do so much damage without even knowing it. No-one would miss him. He didn't have a girlfriend, or siblings, his parents had died years ago. No-one would care, and he'd be free.

Ben walked to the kitchen and opened a drawer. There he pulled out a paring knife. He'd spent ages once, sharpening it to a razor edge. And now was the time to use it. By the light of the moon he rolled up his sleeve, and took a deep breath. He brought the knife down, but jerked it away again at the last moment. He slid to the floor, and gritted his teeth, drawing the knife lightly across his wrist just once, not cutting any arteries, as an experiment. As he watched the blood seep slowly down his arm, there was a thudding noise in the gloom. He paid it no attention

Loki landed in the shadows of Bartleby's house. He looked up from straightening his clothing, to see Bartleby sitting hunched up against his kitchen bench, staring at his bare arm. There was something dark trickling down it . . .

'Bartleby, no!' Loki ran to where his friend sat, hypnotised by the blood.

'Who the hell-'

'No time! Fuck, what do I do? What do I do?' Loki wailed frantically, tearing strips off his clothing to tie round Bartleby's wrist.

'What in God's name are you doing in my house?' asked Bartleby, shoving Loki aside and picking the knife up again.

It shouldn't take much to awaken his old memories, Metatron had said. He's only been 'Ben' for a few months.

'Bartleby, it's me. Loki. Look at me! Tell me you remember me.'

'I don't have a clue- wait. You're the guy from my dream-'

'You remember your dreams?'

'Not usually I don't, but . . . you're the guy I-'Staring in horror, Bartleby dropped the knife with a clatter. Loki took the opportunity to try and bandage the bleeding wrist. 'I . . . I . . . Oh God! What did I do? What did I do?' Bartleby buried his head in his hands, wracked with sobs. Loki could guess why.

'Bartleby, it's ok. I'm ok.'

'Who's Bartleby . . . I'm, I mean, I was Bartleby. And you're . . . Loki . . . Oh God . . .' moaned Bartleby, grief stricken.

'You still are Bartleby. Come on man, snap out of it.' Loki grabbed his friend's shoulders, trying to look into his face. Suddenly Bartleby pushed him away and grabbed the knife once more. Loki knocked it out of his hand.

'That's not the way-'

'I've got to! It's the only way I can be free! I've got to!'

'No, Bartleby, you don't! You've got me!' Loki lifted Bartleby's face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Desperately he began to kiss his friend's face, half kisses, whisper kisses, gently trying to ease Bartleby out of his misery. Eventually Bartleby could stand the teasing no longer, and he grabbed at Loki and kissed him, properly. They shifted position until Bartleby was in the warm circle of Loki's arms, sat against the cupboards on the cold lino in the kitchen, the moon shining on their faces. And it was at this moment, when they were locked into their first truly loverly embrace, that Metatron chose to materialise.

'If I may interrupt this very romantic scene,' he began 'we do have a Scion to save. Two of them, in fact.'

Loki was still wrapped around Bartleby. He glared belligerently at Metatron. 'Jesus, you do pick your moments-'

'Save it, lovebirds. We've got to go.' He stalked out of the room. The other two followed him.

'What's he talking about?'

'Bethany. Pregnant. Azrael trying to kill her. We've got to stop him.' said Loki quietly.

'Where is she?'

'Just around the corner from you, actually,' came Metatron's voice. 'Now will you two hurry up?'

Loki reached out and took Bartleby's hand. They smiled at each other.

'And I saw that!'

Bethany was sat in a chair in her lounge. Jay and Silent Bob were sitting on the sofa. Jay looked abashed. He'd spilt his big secret. Bethany was having a hard time adjusting.

'You're what?'

'I'm gay. I'm gay! Anybody got a fucking problem with this? OK, I said it, happy now?' Jay said sourly to Silent Bob. Silent Bob nodded.

'You're kidding me, right?'

Silent Bob shook his head.

'See, after what that Apostle guy said, I got thinking. And then this sad bitch here tries to set me up with his cousin.' Jay glared at Silent Bob. 'and you get the picture.'

Bethany was slightly incredulous.

'Dude, I told you she wouldn't get it! Look, I thought you'd be glad I'm not tryna get into your pants no more!'

'I'm . . . very happy for you. Um.' She just had to ask. 'So, are you two . . . you know?'

'Shit no! We're strictly friends. You think I'd fuck him?'

'Sorry.'

There was a knock at the door. Making her excuses, Bethany went to get it.

'What the hell-'

'Hello Bethany.'

Jay and Silent Bob looked at each other. They reached an agreement and went to the door. Metatron, with Loki and Bartleby behind him, stood at the door.

'It's them! Shit, we're busted!' said Jay frantically.

'Ah. My favourite little stoner. Why don't you shut up and we'll come in and explain things-'began Metatron.

'Neither of those two is getting into my house.' said Bethany implacably.

'Right. Well, in that case, here's what we do. I come in, and these two go somewhere else.' Metatron looked at Bartleby and Loki. He raised an eyebrow that they just knew meant 'And you two behave yourselves.' Without a word they both wandered back down the street.

'There's a playground just down the street' he called after them. 'Now may I come in? You do trust me, don't you?'

'Since you turned up with those two, I'm not so sure.'

'Oh give over! Look, here's the deal. Azrael's back. We're here to make sure our interests are not compromised.' He looked meaningfully at her swollen stomach.

She clutched at her belly 'You think he's after me?'

'You and the baby.'

'You'd better come in.'

'Finally.'

'So where do those two come in? I thought they'd died.'

'They did. But God gave Loki back his wings in reward for his attempt to stop Bartleby, and She sent Bartleby back to earth, sans memories, to live as a human. Don't ask me why. I think maybe She thought it sounded more mythical that way. Anyway, when She found out that our little horned friend was back on the job, She sent me to recruit Loki. Loki's the only angel who'd take on a job like this.'

'A job like this. . . .you're going to kill Azrael? Can he be killed? I thought Silent Bob had done a pretty good job.' Silent Bob nodded his thanks.

'Silent Bob just sent him back to Hell. Oh, he destroyed the body, but the spirit remains. Takes an angel to kill something from the astral plane, and the only angel we've got who knows anything about killing is Loki.'

'So why Bartleby?'

'Cos Loki's not exactly the brightest cookie in the jar and we needed some brainpower. And frankly bribery was the only way to get Loki to agree to come.' Metatron fidgeted. 'A word of advice about Bartleby; he's rather fragile at the moment. Loki triggered his memories; let him remember being an angel, and unfortunately that means remembering the 'plenary indulgence' incident as well. Including the bit where he murdered Loki. That's giving him some problems, seeing as he and Loki are as close to being an 'item' as an angel and a human can be.' Bethany looked stunned. Metatron rolled his eyes. 'You can't tell me you didn't suspect it.' She nodded. 'Look, I have to tell you this so there're no . . .  misunderstandings . . . later on. Just remember; reminding him of his spirited attempt at genocide would not be a good move.'

Down the street, in the playground, Loki and Bartleby were sat at a picnic table, talking.

'So, any ideas? About the whole Azrael situation?' asked Loki.

'Well, the actual dispatch, from what I understand, is your job-'began Bartleby, working through it logically. 'But he didn't go direct last time, so we're probably going to have to deal with minions this time too- what was that?'

'What?'

'That . . . buzzing noise . . . '

The buzzing noise sounded again. Loki picked it up first. 'Sounds like roller blades.'

'Why would someone be blading down the street at this time of night?' He looked at Loki. Loki was looking straight past him.

'Um, Bartleby? I think the minions we're going to have to deal with are here.'

Bartleby swung around. The Stygian Triplets looked back at him. Without prelude, they rushed towards the two seated figures, sticks lowered into an aggressive pose.

'Bartleby, get out of the way!' shouted Loki, shoving his friend aside before hurling himself off the seat in the other direction.

'It's ok, we can take them down-'

'No, **_I _**can take them down. You're mortal. Stay the fuck away from them! They'll kill you, man!'

'I'll be fine-'

A Triplet's stick came thudding down on Bartleby's shoulder, slicing through the thin sweater he had on. Bartleby gasped and dropped to his knees, but had the presence of mind to grab the stick and break it. Loki, unfazed by the blows inflicted on him, shoved the Triplet into the bushes at the edge of the playground, comatose, and turned to the next one. Bartleby steadied himself and rose to his feet, catching a second Triplet by the back of his hoodie and cracking his head repeatedly against the picnic bench. The third Triplet was drawing Loki further and further away from his friend. When he judged that the angel was far enough away, the Triplet put his head down and put on speed, thudding into Bartleby's back and sending him down, out cold on the concrete. The two remaining Triplets, one much bruised and bloodied from Bartleby's treatment, set about beating the unconscious human. Loki rushed up a moment later, grabbed both of them by their shoulders, smashed their skulls together and dumped them in the little stream that bordered the playground, before picking his passed out friend, throwing him over his shoulder (a difficult feat, considering Loki was a good bit shorter than Bartleby) and running like hell for Bethany's house.

Not bothering with formalities like knocking, he kicked the door open (not just for dramatic effect; his hands were busy trying to prevent the very unwieldy Bartleby from falling off his shoulder) and lay his friend down on the floor. Frantically he slapped at Bartleby's face and tried all the other time-honoured methods of waking up someone who's been knocked unconscious.

'Bartleby! Shit, Bartleby, wake up man, wake up!'

Hearing the commotion, Bethany, Metatron, Jay and Silent Bob trooped out into the hallway just in time to see Loki grab Bartleby's shoulders and pull him into a rough sitting position, shaking him. 'Come on man, wake up! Fuck it, wake UP!'

Bartleby opened his eyes and blinked slowly. 'Lo-'was as far as he got, because Loki, relieved, threw his arms around Bartleby.

'You bastard! You complete and utter bastard!' He drew back, and then seized Bartleby again and kissed him with total abandon. The assembled audience were slightly taken aback.

'At least someone's getting some action.' said Jay. Silent Bob rolled his eyes.

'I should get beaten up more often.' said Bartleby when he managed to disentangle himself.

'You shit! What the hell did you think you were doing? I told you to stay out of it!'

'And in other news,' Bartleby stood up with some difficulty, Loki still apparently surgically attached to him. 'I think Azrael may know where we are.'

Metatron raised an eyebrow. 'And what makes you think that?'

'Oh, the small matter of the Stygian Triplets beating the shit out of me.'

'Ah. Yes, well, I think we can safely say that counts as a clue. Look, Bethany, get some things together. We're going to have to leave. Now.'

'Where do we go?'

'Somewhere the Triplets can't.'

'Somewhere with grass – no concrete. They won't be able to roller blade on it, at least.' said Bartleby, wincing as he took a few steps forward.

'There's a big park near here.' said Bethany, putting her coat on. She shooed Jay and Silent Bob out of the front room. 'Come on, let's go.' Metatron said, herding them all out of the door. 'Now, where's this park?'

'Too far to walk. We'll have to drive.' said Bethany, leading the way to her car. 'And before you ask, no, you can't drive.' she added to Jay, without turning her head.

'No fair!'

They piled into the car, Bethany at the wheel, Metatron in the passenger's side, and the other four in the back, squashed together.

Bulleting down the road, Bethany looked in her wing mirror, and caught a flash of movement at the edge of the road. A moment later, first one, then another, then finally all three Triplets pulled out directly behind her into the road. They sped up.

'Shit, they're on our tail! How the hell can they be that fast? I'm doing eighty kilometres an hour!'

'Azrael's giving them a little assistance, I'd guess. And my advice is to step on it.' said Metatron. 'How far from this place are we now?'

'Not far.'

Suddenly Bethany threw the wheel over, and the car skidded into a right hand turn, sending all the four back seat passengers colliding together onto the one on the corner.

'Jesus Christ lady!'

'Hey, do you mind?'

'I'm trying to get us there as fast as possible!' said Bethany defensively, leaning heavily on the accelerator. They flashed past a sign saying 'Park'

'In one piece?'

Bethany failed to answer as she threw the car into a space, and slammed on the brakes. Metatron was first out of the car, his speed belying his appearance, and grabbed Bethany from the driver's seat.

'Come on, come on missy, let's go' he hustled her into the park, trailing Jay and Silent Bob, Loki and Bartleby. The buzzing rolling noise alerted them, and Metatron, without even turning around, simply swung Bethany up into his arms and sped off, leaving the other four to face the Stygian Triplets. Each little group eyed the other. The Triplets couldn't get much further without taking their skates off, and they didn't want to take their eyes off the enemy. The 'enemy' i.e. our brave heroes also didn't want to take their eyes off the Triplets, mainly because the idea of a ballistic hockey stick in the back was not attractive, and so an impasse was reached. Until a scream rent the air

'Shit, that's Bethany!' said Jay, breaking the silence and running off disjointedly into the trees, followed closely by Silent Bob. Bartleby and Loki looked at each other, looked at the Triplets, and reached a silent decision. They ran too. The Triplets attempted to follow, but were halted by their footwear.

'What's going on?' panted Loki

'I dunno, but do you want to be the one to say you didn't get there in time? She screamed; that's all we need to know!' yelled Bartleby back at Loki as they pounded between the trees. The screaming was getting louder and more frequent, and was intermingled with squelches.

'This way!'

They skidded through the vegetation and came to rest in view of a strange sight. Bethany was lying on the ground, doing the screaming. Bob was sitting next to her, holding her hand in a vague way, and looking highly worried. Jay appeared to have passed out. And at the edge of the tiny patch of space that had been found, the Metatron was battling furiously with . . .

'Shit! The Golgothan!'

'You never said a truer word.'

'This is not the time for jokes Bartleby!' screamed Loki frantically.

'That's rich, coming from you!' yelled Bartleby back.

Loki growled, exasperated. He pointed at Jay. 'What's up with him, why isn't he helping?'

Bob contrived to show that his friend had passed out.

'What the fuck for?'

'Because . . . he looked . . . at me . . .' said Bethany breathlessly.

'And what's up with you?' asked Loki, rather unwisely as it turned out.

'She's giving birth, idiot!' said Bartleby, kneeling down and taking a look. And turning rather green. Bob nodded understandingly. Bartleby squared his shoulders. 'Ok, does anyone here know how to deliver a baby? No. Right. Fine. OK, no problem . . .'

Loki was also looking a little green. Metatron suddenly gasped; he'd been hit in the stomach by a particularly large, um, missile. 'My suit!' he moaned. 'Right, that's it, you overgrown dog turd, you'll pay for that one. . . '

'Loki, go help Metatron!'

Loki made to do so-

'Hey there boys and girls.' came a cold, precise and intensely cynical voice. Azrael stepped into the clearing, immaculate in a cream summer suit and a panama hat. He straightened his lapel theatrically.

There was a moment of shock, punctuated only by a groan from Bethany. Azrael's expression changed to triumph. 'Aha, it looks like my package is on the point of arriving.' He strode over to where Bethany lay, only to be interrupted by a businesslike elbow in the gut from Bartleby.

'You're not getting anywhere near her, or the baby.' said the former angel determinedly, squaring up to the Muse. Azrael raised a sarcastic eyebrow before slamming a fist so hard into Bartleby's stomach that he flew backwards.

'Oh really? You might have been able to do something when you were angelic, _Ben_- 'and the name was used as a barb '- but this time you're a human, and no-one even has so much as a holy nine iron in their hands.' Azrael bent over Bethany, anticipating the leg that came flying towards his face and deftly breaking it. 'That goes for you too, sweetheart.' he said mock-kindly, watching the agonized expression on her face.

However he didn't foresee Loki grabbing him from behind in a headlock and yanking him to his feet, hauling him as far from Bethany and co as possible.

'Bartleby, you stay OUT of this- 'he yelled as Azrael flipped him over his shoulder and brought a foot down hard. But Loki rolled out of the way and jumped back to his feet again, dealing the Muse a couple of vicious jabs to the face before ducking under his arms and attempting the headlock again. Azrael ducked. They circled each other warily.

Bartleby and Bob dragged Jay's oblivious body close to Bethany's and tried to face down the Triplets, who were tramping closer. And that was the scene; Metatron and Golgothan engaging in the most disturbing version of mud wrestling since, um, ever, Loki and Azrael locked into each other's vicelike grips, and the tiny gaggle of mortals attempting to out stare the Stygian Triplets. Bartleby and Bob were having no luck; the Triplets edged closer, and closer. Bartleby looked at Bethany, who was undergoing another heinous contraction, up at the encroaching Triplets, and then at Bob. Bob returned the gaze, and understood what Bartleby wanted to do. He nodded. Suddenly Bartleby ran straight towards the Triplets, screaming as fearsomely as he could and waving his arms. They piled into him. Bob focussed his attention on Bethany, not that there was much he could do.

A groan escaped Bartleby as a Triplet caught him in the solar plexus. Loki's head whipped round. 'Bartleby-'he managed, before Azrael kicked him, hard, and he sank to his knees.

'Aww, isn't that sweet? The pair of you make such a nice couple.' said Azrael, repeatedly thudding his knee into Loki's side. 'Too bad you'll never get that happy ending.' He grabbed Loki's hair and wrenched his head back, glaring in triumph into the angel's eyes. Loki glared back, and slammed his elbow into Azrael's kneecap. The Muse grunted, something went crack, and he flopped over, balance lost for a moment, just long enough for Loki to regain his feet.

Bob was still with Bethany. After another agonizing contraction, she managed to sob out to him 'Bob . . . something's wrong. You've . . . got to take . . . a look . . .'

Bob crawled round to Bethany's legs. 'I can see feet.' he said, habitual silence forgotten in the urgency of the situation.

'No . . . head?'

'Feet.'

Bartleby, surrounded by Triplets, caught this exchange. He tried to yell something, and then had to duck speedily to avoid a hockey stick. Quickly he grabbed the stick and used it to fend off the Triplets for a moment. 'Its breech!' he managed to scream out. Azrael at the same time shouted 'Forget the mortal, grab the Scion!' The Triplets started out for their new quarry, abandoning Bartleby and the hockey stick. He ran after them, throwing the stick aside.

'Grab the feet!' he yelled to Bob. 'Pull on its feet! It won't get out by itself!' He sped up, passing the last of the three Triplets. Bob had hold of the baby's ankles.

'Don't pull too hard! Bethany, push!' For a few months, Bartleby had been a nurse – that was the profession that God had implanted in his memory. If he concentrated, he could think back to that fake life. He passed the second Triplet. The baby was emerging. Bartleby put on one last spurt of speed, passing the first Triplet in line, and scooping the baby out of Bob's hands, he kept running, through the trees, on and on, hearing the sounds of his pursuit; Triplets and Azrael, through the blood pounding in his ears – and his feet kept running, but suddenly there was no ground underneath him, and he and the baby were falling, falling through the air, and his memories told him that he had wings, but when he tried to straighten them, they weren't there, of course, he was human now, and the ground was rushing up at an alarming rate, some kind of excavation here, not too deep, but deep enough that he knew he wasn't going to walk away from this one, the ground was too close – and then a jerk on his shoulders, there was no rushing any more, just a feeling of almost weightlessness, and limbs he had  partially forgotten flexed, his wings! He had his wings! He flapped them frantically, trying to gain height, get away from the uneven floor below him. Looking down he saw the pursuit stop abruptly at the edge of the pit and stare down in wonder, then up at him, hearing the swish of feathers through air, and so stunned by the sight of Bartleby aloft that they failed to notice Loki sprinting up behind them. Azrael turned at the last moment, but too late to defend himself, and with a businesslike twist, Loki broke his neck, dropped the already disintegrating body, and advanced towards the Triplets, fury in his eyes. Bartleby, Watcher abilities miraculously restored, realised that Loki hadn't seen him flying, had only heard the yell that escaped him as he plunged over the edge of the pit.

_He thinks I've died . . . _

'Loki! Up here!' he called, cradling the baby carefully. Loki looked up.

'Bartleby! I thought you'd - '

'Look out!' A Triplet raised his stick to deal a blow to Loki's head - but one of the others grabbed it, and pulled it back through the tear in the dimensions that it had made. Loki ran off into the trees, chasing the last one, which hadn't made it through the portal. Of the Golgothan nothing could be seen. Slowly, however, through the trees came Bob and Jay, carrying Bethany, with Metatron, his suit beyond all repair, bringing up the rear.

'My baby!' cried Bethany, holding her arms up. Unwilling to leave the sky – how had he forgotten how good it felt to fly? – Bartleby nevertheless descended, folding his wings. He handed over the messy bundle of flesh.

'Is it a boy or a girl?' asked Jay.

'I, I don't know' said Bartleby with some chagrin. 'I never thought to check.'

'It's a boy.' said Metatron, and he smiled; a rare occurrence. 'Any thoughts on names, Bethany?'

'I'm not sure.' she said distractedly, gazing down on her son. 'I was thinking-'

But the name she was about to suggest was lost when Loki came pounding up the track they'd made, waving a battered and broken hockey stick in his hand. He collided with Bartleby, unable to stop himself or slow down. The two of them collapsed into a crying, kissing heap on the edge of the pit. Metatron, Bethany, Jay and Bob exchanged glances, and smiled.

'I was thinking' Bethany started again 'maybe Ben?'

The End


End file.
